The blindfold cut the world into velvet blackness.
Lin could smell sugar-sap and rust.
Somewhere ahead, paws pattered like soft rain.
The air itself vibrated with the puppies' harmonic barking, each note sliding deeper under his skin.
Behind him Nyra's voice trembled in ritual cadence, every word an iron spike in the song:
> "Steel to sugar, sugar to steel and
We anchor the heart, we shatter the seal—"
Elara gripped his sleeve, a lifeline. "We're close," she whispered. "The mill's heart is right ahead."
The guide's cool hand brushed his shoulder. "Do not lift your blindfold. Their eyes are weapons now."
Lin forced a grin. "Wouldn't dream of it."
---
The Puppies' Last Gambit
Without sight, everything else sharpened:
– the smell of scorched caramel
– the tick-tick of turning gears
– the thready, too-perfect rhythm of the pups' footsteps.
They had stopped yipping like dogs. Now the sound was more like humming children.
Crystal's voice flickered in his ear, thin from power loss.
"Field approaching cascade. If node destabilizes inside harmonic range, compulsion will invert. Unknown effect."
"Invert?" Lin hissed. "What does that even mean"
"Could anchor the puppies instead," Crystal said, "or anchor you to them. Fifty-fifty."
Elara squeezed his arm. "We're here. The heart's right ahead."
---
The Mill's Heart
Nyra's chanting built to a crescendo. The ground trembled as hidden gears began to uncouple.
Through the blindfold Lin could sense light — pulsing, like a heartbeat. The mill was alive.
"Now," Nyra gasped, "strike the core!"
Lin dropped to one knee, blindly swung his club downward where the pulse was strongest. The wood hit something soft yet unyielding — like hitting a drum. A resonant boom rippled through the field.
The puppies' song wavered. For the first time he heard actual whimpers — scared, small.
Then the guide stepped forward.
---
The Guide's Revelation
Lin felt rather than saw her move.
She walked into the center of the sugar-iron circle, unafraid, and began to hum a counter-melody.
Not a ward — a lullaby.
The puppies answered her.
The harmonic field shuddered, split, and then bent toward her like a sunflower toward light.
"What are you doing?" Nyra shouted.
The guide's voice came soft but clear. "I was part of them. Before the system broke me off. I am their handler. Or I was. I can still speak their language… but only once."
Elara's breath caught. "You're an NPC?"
The guide's smile was sad. "I don't know anymore."
Her palms glowed — one sugar-white, one iron-red. The puppies' chorus fell silent, replaced by a low, unified whine.
---
The Choice
Crystal's voice snapped, urgent: "She is drawing the compulsion through herself. If she completes it, she may anchor the entire biome… or be consumed. Decision point, Lin."
Lin's throat tightened. "Decision point?"
"She can end this now," Crystal said. "But you will lose her. Or you can stop her and try brute-force neutralization, risking cascade."
Nyra's chant faltered. "If we let it cascade, we all could—"
"I know," Lin muttered.
The guide looked at him — though he couldn't see it, he felt it.
"You have to choose," she whispered. "I can carry them. Or you can fight them.
The air held its breath.
Puppies whined, sugar cracked, gears ground.
Crystal's voice counted down: "Ten seconds."
Lin's fingers dug into the club. Elara's hand trembled on his sleeve.
He could either
– let the guide absorb the compulsion, sacrificing herself but saving the team
– or try to disrupt the mill directly, risking everyone and maybe the biome itself.
"Five seconds," Crystal said.
The puppies' song began again, low and mournful.
"Choose," the guide whispered.
Lin ripped off his blindfold — eyes blazing, staring straight into the heart of the biome, into the guide, into the pups — and opened his mouth.
To be continued…